


Living After Midnight

by cambangst



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chamber of Secrets, Community: HPFT, Gen, One Night Stands, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cambangst/pseuds/cambangst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when your best mate is angry at you? If you're Sirius Black, you spend all night stirring up trouble and trying to remember that Hufflepuff girl's name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Judas Priest song of the same name. I have to say, Priest is a great musical pairing for Sirius Black.
> 
> As always, that which you recognize from the books belongs to JK Rowling.

A narrow beam of pale wand light emerged from a stack of barrels in the cellar of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It swept the opposite wall of the chilly corridor, searching for any signs of life. The light was extinguished with a muttered spell and the sound of leather sliding against old oak was barely audible in the eerie silence.  
  
  
Sirius Black pulled himself to a standing position as one of the barrel lids swung shut behind him. Reaching into his black leather jacket, he pulled out a tarnished silver flask and tipped the last of the contents into his open mouth. A visible shudder ran through his lanky frame but a wicked smile settled onto his lips as he studied the front of the small container. It once belonged to his Uncle Alphard, not that his uncle ever cared much for it. Sirius had nicked it before the start of third year and transfigured the Black family crest with some help from Remus. He still counted it among his greatest moments of inspiration. The greyhounds were balanced on three legs while they relieved themselves on the sides of the sable. Beneath the chevron, a middle finger stood proudly in place of the sword and the motto now read _“Toujours Putains”_. Sirius found the change fitting. His family thought they were better than everyone else, but in truth they were little more than the Dark Lord’s whores.  
  
  
Tucking the flask away, he made a mental note to thank his new female friend for a most enjoyable evening. Night? Morning? Whatever the hell time it was. Checking his watch, he realized that it was nearly four o’clock. He definitely needed to learn how to brew that Stamina Draught she’d shared with him. First, however, he’d need to remember her name. Genevieve? Gwendolyn? Why did witches always have to have such complicated names? Gertrude?  
  
  
Sirius lit his wand again and carefully made his way down the corridor that led away from the Hufflepuff Common Room. This was the first time he’d ever been inside -- secret passageways and broom closets were more his style -- and he had to say that it was pleasant. The rugs were soft, the sofas were comfortable and the girls dormitories didn’t have any annoying protective enchantments. Quite a difference from the bloody stairs inside Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t sure whether that fact made him respect the blokes in Hufflepuff more or a whole lot less.  
  
  
Getting back to his own bed was going to be more difficult than usual. He didn’t have James’s cloak or the map they’d made because James was extremely pissed off at him. His best mate was deep in one of his Lily Evans obsessive funks. In the past, they’d only taken a day or two to run their course. Since the start of Sixth Year, however, they’d been lasting longer and longer. Sirius had half-jokingly suggested that James talk to Madam Pomfrey about his irregular periods. That crack earned him a hex that nearly destroyed his favorite pair of jeans. After he calmed down, Sirius had to admit that they looked better tight.  
  
  
Lately James was doing all sort of daft things to try to impress Miss Evans. Paying attention in class, avoiding detentions, giving proper directions to First Years instead of setting them up to run into Peeves... Sirius felt like he barely knew the bloke sometimes. He could almost see what James was on about, although that didn’t make it any less disturbing. Evans was smart and pretty and she had an acid tongue to rival anyone he’d ever met. After five years of following Snivellus Snape around with her head up her arse, she’d finally realized what he was all about and stopped talking to him. Sirius understood very well what James saw in her. The only thing Sirius couldn’t see in Lily Evans was James. And that observation was the reason that James wasn’t speaking to him at the moment.  
  
  
Sirius came to an abrupt stop near a corner and pressed himself against the wall. His ears picked up on the distant echo of Filch’s voice, probably talking to his mangy cat or just mumbling to himself like a nutter. Sirius ached to transform and give Mrs. Norris the scare of her nine lives. Since they’d mastered the Animagus transformation, traumatizing Filch’s cat had been second on Sirius’s personal bucket list, trailing only a little vignette he’d dreamed up that involved Marlene McKinnon, Greta Catchlove and the hidden passage that led to the cellar of Honeydukes. He could imagine the nasty old caretaker crawling around for days, searching behind tapestries and and suits of armor, trying to lure her out of hiding.  
  
  
Sirius sighed and turned around, heading deeper into the dungeons. Unfortunately, giving Mrs. Norris a heart attack would lead to a lot of questions about how a large black dog managed to get into the castle. Even if his friends were being a bunch of wankers, he couldn’t do that to them, especially Moony. As long as they were at Hogwarts, it was understood that all of their furry secrets would remain secrets.  
  
  
There was another secret passage next to an abandoned laundry room just past the Potions classrooms. From there, he was pretty sure that he could get back to the second floor of the castle without running into Filch or anyone else. He’d need to make his way past the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room to get there, but he wasn’t overly worried about that. If anyone poked their head out, he’d have a few choice hexes waiting for them. It was times like this that he missed James the most.  
  
  
Sirius’s mood darkened as he crept down the corridor. He didn’t like fighting with James. James was one of a select few constants in the swirling shit storm that Sirius called a life. Lately, though, it seemed that the two of them argued more and more often. Lily Evans was never far from the root of the argument. The girl had an incredible talent for turning James from his happy, fun loving self into a moping, brooding old lubberwort. Sirius counted back the days since James had stormed away in a huff. If he stayed mad for one more day, it would best the mark he’d set during the Christmas holiday.  
  
  
The holiday episode had been a right fiasco. James had badgered Evans nonstop since Halloween and he finally caught her in a moment of weakness while she was revising for a Transfiguration quiz. She’d agreed to meet up with James for a night out in London during the holiday, so long as they both brought along friends and it was understood by all that the evening was _most certainly not_ a date. James had been over the moon. He’d spent days drilling Sirius, Remus and Peter on the proper way to dress, speak and behave for a night out in muggle London. When the day came, James was so nervous and excited that he mispronounced _Leaky Cauldron_ and ended up flooing to some apothecary in Wales.  
  
  
It took a bit to sort out that mess, but James forgot about all of his troubles when Evans stepped into the pub. He certainly forgot about his mates, which was how Sirius ended up talking to Lily’s friend Joy. Joy was such a nice, easy muggle name. Much better than Geraldine or Georgette -- maybe Gretchen? -- at least in Sirius’s opinion. Unfortunately, that was where Joy’s appeal came to an end. The girl didn’t seem to be able to talk about anything other than her schoolwork and all she wanted to drink was something called “tonic water” with a lime wedge floating in it. He vaguely remembered her saying something about planning to study “primitive cultures” at someplace called “uni”. Sirius thought it would have been amusing to introduce her to his grandfather Arcturus. The old man could have told Joy a lot about primitive social customs if she hadn’t been a muggle and he hadn’t been a raving, bigoted pureblood arsehole.  
  
  
The point was, Sirius had tried. He had really, properly tried to be a good mate and tolerate Lily’s boring muggle friends so that James could make time with her. In fact, he’d come up with a way to make the whole experience more pleasant. While the barman was waiting on other customers, he’d nicked a bottle of gin and started adding it to Joy’s tonic water when she wasn’t paying attention. It was completely brilliant if he did say so, himself. Joy became more interesting with each and every glass. Things were going swimmingly until that bloody muggle song started playing.  
  
  
Sirius cringed a little as the melody echoed through his mind. Some poncey ballad about being the champions of the world or something like that. As soon as that bloody song came on, Joy had suddenly started to flounce around the pub, howling into an imaginary microphone. At first, Lily looked uncomfortably amused. Then Joy wrapped herself around Lily’s neck and started going on about how much she loved Lily and how they needed to go out more often. That’s when Lily’s ears turned the same color as her hair. The next several minutes were a blur of James trying to calm Lily down, Lily berating everyone for their lack of maturity and good judgment and Joy trying to climb onto the bar and sing. It was a right catastrophe and when it was all over James didn’t speak to him for four days. Joy, on the other hand, had slipped a piece of paper with a bunch of numbers on it into the back pocket of Sirius’s jeans while Lily was dragging her out the door. He still wasn’t sure what to do with that, although the way she’d grabbed his bum made him think it would almost be worth the effort to find out.  
  
  
Setting the bad memories aside, Sirius hurried past the wall that concealed the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. As long as there were no Prefects or teachers skulking around the Potions classrooms, he was home free. He turned the corner at the end of the corridor and breathed a small sigh of relief. Sneaking around the castle at night was a lot less stressful when you were invisible and you knew where other people were located. It wasn’t so much that he was worried about another detention. The time he’d spent with that little minx from Hufflepuff -- Gabrielle? Gisselle? -- was well worth it. This was more a matter of personal pride. If he was going to get caught, it wasn’t going to be because of some stuck-up Slytherin Prefect or, Merlin forbid, old Sluggy. If he got pinched by that fat old walrus, he’d never hear the end of it.  
  
  
He was about to set off toward the hidden passage when another sound caught his attention. The soft grinding of heavy stone worn smooth by time. Someone had opened the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Without giving it much thought, he pressed his back against the wall and listened. There had to be something pretty interesting to rouse the snakes from their beds at four in the morning on a Sunday.  
  
  
“You’re sure about this, Travers?” Sirius’s ears perked up. It certainly sounded like ickle Regulus.  
  
  
“Of course I’m not sure, you twat.” The older Slytherin’s voice dripped with annoyance and well-rehearsed superiority. “Nobody knows where it is. But we won’t bloody well find it if we don’t look.”  
  
  
Sirius heard footsteps shuffling in his direction and he hurried away from the corner. Finding a small alcove filled with broken stools from the Potions classrooms, he transformed and hunkered down in the darkness. With the sharpened senses of his Animagus form, he had no problems picking out every word of the Slytherin boys’ whispered conversation.  
  
  
“How do we know where to start looking?” Sirius couldn’t decide whether to feel irritated or relieved. At least the little wally had found somebody else to annoy, but Travers? By all accounts, the Slytherin Fifth Year had only two measurable talents: bullying younger students and toadying up to Snivellus, Avery and MacNair.  
  
  
“The legend says that Salazar Slytherin himself created it,” Travers replied, filling the statement with exaggerated importance. “Where else would it be but the dungeons?”  
  
  
“So maybe in the lowest level, where they used to throw prisoners to rot?” Regulus tried to affect the casual cruelty that characterized many of his housemates. In Sirius’s not so humble opinion, it just made him sound like the villain in a muggle cartoon. Perhaps when his bollocks dropped, he’d be able to sound like a proper tosser.  
  
  
“If it was _my_ chamber, that’s where I’d put it,” Travers concurred. Sirius peeked through the pile of twisted and splintered wood and watched their green trimmed robes pass by. The wankers were looking for the bloody Chamber of Secrets. One night when James’s mum was away -- after three or four glasses of firewhiskey -- James’s dad had shared the story of the chamber with them. Naturally, the Marauders spent two months searching for it when they returned to Hogwarts. Their efforts turned up nothing. Sirius was convinced that it was a myth. If it existed, the map would have given some clue as to where it was or how to get inside.  
  
  
Sirius slinked out of the alcove and padded along silently, following the two Slytherins. All thoughts of his bed were gone, replaced by a strong desire to increase the humiliation that was invariably going to befall Regulus and his idiot friend.  
  
  
“You’re sure that they’ll let us join right away if we find it?” Regulus asked eagerly. Sirius had a bad feeling that he knew what his little brother was talking about.  
  
  
“Of course,” Travers answered haughtily. “The legend says that Slytherin left a monster in the chamber, one that would rid Hogwarts of all the mudblood filth. If we find it, the Dark Lord will be most pleased. We’ll earn our marks before Snape or MacNair or any of the others.”  
  
  
Travers’s posturing removed all doubt. Sirius mentally sighed. He’d known for a while that Regulus had fallen in with a bad crowd, but he never thought that his little brother would go so far as to try to become a Death Eater. Now that the truth was staring him in the face, he supposed that it was easy enough to see coming. Orion and Walburga had heaped praise on his cousin Bellatrix for her devotion to the Dark Lord and vilified poor Andromeda for running away with the muggle-born chap from Hufflepuff. Bunch of fucking tossers, all of them. When Travers and Regulus started down a dark, damp set of stairs that led to the lowest level of the castle, Sirius launched himself into a rubbish chute hidden behind a suit of black armor. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do, but beating the two Slytherins to the lower level seemed like a good first move.  
  
  
Sirius landed on a pile of moth-eaten robes and moldy history texts and pushed open the hatch that led into the corridor. He resumed his human form and hurried along, looking for a good hiding spot. An old section of wooden scaffolding lined a portion of the corridor, holding up a section of the ceiling that might have collapsed centuries before. Sirius spotted a small gap above one end of the scaffold, just large enough for him to crawl into and turn around. A couple of quick concealment charms later, he was able to view the entire corridor with little risk of being discovered.  
  
  
“I think it’s this way.” Regulus wasn’t bothering to whisper anymore now that they’d reached the deepest depths of the castle. “It looks like nobody’s been down here in centuries.”  
  
  
A plan started to crystallize in Sirius’s brain. What better way to help the pair of wankers humiliate themselves than to show them exactly what they wanted to see? He slipped his wand out of his pocket and whispered an incantation as he gestured toward the wall at the end of the corridor.  
  
  
“Travers! Look, over there!” Sirius hadn’t heard his little brother so excited since Orion and Walburga had bribed the Unspeakable Rookwood to remove the Trace from him. The two Slytherins hurried down the corridor and came to a stop in front of the wall. Ghostly green letters had appeared on the ancient stone, glowing softly in the darkness.  
  
  
 _SONS OF SLYTHERIN  
THE END OF YOUR QUEST IS NEAR_  
  
  
“I knew it!” Travers hissed gleefully. “That fool Gibbon thought the entrance was at the bottom of the Black Lake.”  
  
  
Sirius listened to their self-congratulatory clap-trap while he pondered his next move. How would a pureblood fanatic secure the entrance to his secret self-love nest? The answer dawned on him and he choked back a snigger. Reaching into his coat pocket, he rummaged around in search of...  
  
  
He slowly withdrew his hand, revealing a thin triangle of lace fringed silk. He’d have to get those back to Georgiana -- Gladys? -- the next time he saw her. Stuffing them back into his pocket, he kept searching until he found a mangled quill. Pointing his wand at it, he transfigured it into an ornate dagger with a serpent’s head at the base of the handle. Sirius dragged the pad of his thumb carefully across the edge of the blade. No, that wouldn’t do at all. He muttered a few more spells and tested it again. Perfect. He turned his attention back to the message on the wall.  
  
  
 _A SACRIFICE OF BLOOD  
SHALL GAIN ENTRANCE TO MY CHAMBER_  
  
  
While Regulus and Travers were pondering the meaning of the glowing words, Sirius sent the dagger floating above their heads with a flick of his wand.  
  
  
“Hold still, I know a spell that- OWW!” Travers cried out in shock as Sirius released the dagger from his spell and allowed it to fall onto the older Slytherin’s head. The silver blade clattered to the floor before Regulus bent down to retrieve it.  
  
  
“He wants us to use this!” Regulus stated confidently.  
  
  
Travers fixed his younger housemate with a withering glare. “Any other flashes of brilliance you’d like to share, Black?”  
  
  
Regulus mumbled a vague demurral as Travers snatched the dagger out of his hand. Facing the wall, he loudly declared, “Great Salazar, I offer the pure blood of the Travers family as a sacrifice.” Then he drew the blade of the dagger across his palm. A confused look settled on Travers’ face. He drew the blade across his palm again. Sirius gripped his lower lip between his teeth and shook with silent laughter as Travers spent the next thirty seconds poking his fingers and sawing across his palm.  
  
  
“Bloody thing’s dull as ditch water,” Travers grumbled, studying the blunted edge of the blade.  
  
  
Regulus snatched the dagger back. “Perhaps your blood’s not pure enough.” He ignored the outraged look on Travers’s face and tried in vain to cut his own fingers. Sirius drew a shaky breath and started to think hard. This gag had almost run its course, but he was nowhere near finished tormenting the two Slytherins.  
  
  
“There has to be some way to draw blood with that thing,” Travers growled, rubbing his sore fingers. A look settled onto Regulus’s face that Sirius immediately recognized. The last time he’d seen it, Regulus had tried to fly his broomstick up the stairs of Grimmauld Place to avoid being punished for tracking mud on the carpets. Without warning, the younger Slytherin cocked his arm back and proceeded to drive the pommel of the dagger into Travers’s face. Sirius shivered involuntarily at the sickening crack, which was followed by a howl of pain and rage.  
  
  
Blood seeped through Travers’s fingers, which were wrapped tightly around his broken nose. “Problem solved,” Regulus proclaimed. “Wipe your face on the wall.”  
  
  
“You boody dosser,” Travers raged, drawing his wand with his free hand. “Ib’ll kidd you!”  
  
  
Sirius was once again holding his tongue tightly between his teeth. Regulus seemed completely unconcerned by Travers’s anger and rolled his eyes dismissively. “Are you a wizard or a muggle? We can heal it once the chamber’s open.”  
  
  
Without shifting his furious glare away from Regulus, Travers pulled his bloody hand away from his face and wiped it on the stone wall. Sirius allowed the glowing words to fade and started a new series of wand motions while Regulus quickly cast a healing spell on Travers’s broken nose. It was time to up the ante again. Sirius was starting to wonder just how far he could push the joke before the two idiots would catch on.  
  
  
 _WHO DARES PROFANE MY CHAMBER?  
I DID NOT ASK FOR A SACRIFICE OF BOGIES!_  
  
  
“You idiot!” Travers threw a forearm into the middle of Regulus’s chest, nearly knocking the younger Slytherin down. “If you’ve ruined our chances of opening the chamber, I’ll kill you!”  
  
  
“Well you could have warned me that you have a cold,” Regulus responded weakly, looking equal parts embarrassed and dejected.  
  
  
Sirius’s mind was working furiously. He dug through the pockets of his coat, looking for anything more substantial than Gillian’s knickers. His search finally turned up a pair of old keys. Remus had pilfered them from a drawer in Filch’s office and the Marauders had been trying to determine what they opened. Sirius decided that would have to remain a mystery. With a quick wave of his wand, he transfigured them into a large chisel and a sledgehammer. As he sent them floating across the corridor, he changed the writing on the wall again.  
  
  
 _YOU MAY NOT ENTER MY CHAMBER WITH MAGIC  
PROVE YOURSELF WORTHY WITH FLESH AND BLOOD_  
  
  
A disdainful look settled onto Travers’s thin face. “What does that mean? We’re wizards. Why wouldn’t he want us to use magic?”  
  
  
“Maybe it’s a punishment,” Regulus speculated, “for getting snot on his chamber.”  
  
  
Sirius chose that moment to cancel the levitation charm that was holding the heavy steel tools near the ceiling. Once again, they came crashing down onto Travers’s head. While Travers swore angrily and gingerly checked his skull for any fractures, Sirius slashed his wand across two diagonals. A glowing green cross appeared in the middle of the stone wall.  
  
  
“I guess this is the place,” Regulus sighed, hefting the hammer and chisel off of the floor. He held them out to his older housemate. “Which do you want first?”  
  
  
Travers looked a bit unsteady on his feet as he took the hammer from Regulus’s hand. Regulus timidly held the point of the chisel against the wall while Travers lined up for a swing. Travers drew back and swung the hammer with all his might. Regulus reflexively pulled his hand away moments before the head of the hammer smacked the stone wall several inches to the left of the spot where the chisel had been.  
  
  
“Hold it still, you bloody coward,” Travers growled.  
  
  
“Fix your aim,” Regulus shot back, “or let me have the hammer.”  
  
  
Tears were streaming down Sirius’s cheeks as the two Slytherins traded threats and insults. With a quick swish and flick of his wand, the message on the wall changed again.  
  
  
 _I DO NOT WISH TO WAIT ANOTHER  
THOUSAND YEARS. MAKE HASTE!_  
  
  
Gradually, amidst a great deal of bickering and with a high risk of injury, Regulus and Travers fell into a shaky rhythm of battering the stone wall with the hammer and chisel. Progress was exceedingly slow, given that neither boy had any particular aptitude for manual labor. Sirius quickly found himself growing bored. He was pondering a way to rectify the situation when another flash of inspiration struck.  
  
  
 _YOU SHOW THE ENTHUSIASM OF  
A DECEASED MOUNTAIN TROLL  
LET THE WORDS OF OUR NOBLE  
SCHOOL SONG INVIGORATE YOU!_  
  
  
The two Slytherins stared at the wall for a long moment, looking completely at a loss for what to do. Sirius was concerned that they might give up and go back to bed. Then Travers, in a low, joyless monotone, began to sing. Regulus joined in after a couple of lines. Much later, when he paused to reflect on the minutes that followed, Sirius realized that he had never been more envious of those wizards and witches who were fortunate enough to own a pensieve.  
  
  
“Hogwarts, Hogwarts”  
  
  
 _Clang_  
  
  
“Hoggy, warty Hogwarts”  
  
  
 _Crack_  
  
  
“Teach us something-”  
  
  
“Dammit, Black, that was my thumb!”  
  
  
“Well stop moving the bloody chisel so much!”  
  
  
 _Clang_  
  
  
“Our heads could do with filling”  
  
  
 _Smack_  
  
  
“With some interesting stuff”  
  
  
 _Bang_  
  
  
“It’s your turn to hold the bleeding chisel!”  
  
  
“Is not! You took five licks last time.”  
  
  
 _Thwack_  
  
  
“So teach... us things... worth knowing...”  
  
  
 _Ping_  
  
  
“Bring back... what we’ve forgot...”  
  
  
“What in god’s name is going on down here?”  
  
  
Even as the hairs on the back of Sirius’s neck stood on end, he grinned with wicked glee. The two Slytherins looked momentarily horrified before they regained their composure. The light from an old copper lantern danced along the walls of the corridor as Filch stomped past Sirius’s hiding place. The caretaker wagged his finger menacingly as Mrs. Norris peeked out from behind his boots with her tail puffed out. “Breaking curfew and destroying school property, eh? You two are in deep trouble.”  
  
  
“Go away, you filthy squib,” Travers snarled. The older boy made a threatening gesture with the hammer. “This doesn’t concern you.”  
  
  
Far from being intimidated, Filch grinned triumphantly. “Threatening a member of the staff as well? You’re making this too easy, Mr. Travers. We’ll have you on the train back to London tomorrow morning.”  
  
  
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Filch.” Regulus had drawn himself to his full height, not that it was all that impressive. “My cousin’s father-in-law sits on the Board of Governors. My-”  
  
  
“Yes, yes, yes,” Filch shot back, waving his hand dismissively. “You can tell me all about it on the way to Professor Slughorn’s office.”  
  
  
“We’re not going anywhere with you.” Travers hefted the hammer onto his shoulder and glared defiantly. “When we open the chamber, you’ll be the first filthy muggle that gets dealt with.” Turning his back on the school caretaker, he set his feet and swung the hammer with all of his might. It struck the wall with an ear-splitting _crack_. For a fraction of a second, nobody dared to breathe. Then a thin stream of water erupted through the damaged wall into the corridor.  
  
  
Regulus leapt away in alarm. Travers looked from the cracked wall to the hammer and back with an expression of utter horror on his face. A second stream of water, larger and faster than the first, burst through the crack. Mrs. Norris yowled and started to claw her way up Filch’s leg.  
  
  
“You bloody idiot!” Filch shouted, storming toward the two dumbstruck Slytherins. Within moments, the three of them were shouting at one another and waving their arms while the Black Lake slowly drained into the dungeons. Sirius transformed and leapt to the floor before slipping away unnoticed. Just before he reached the ground floor of the castle, he ducked into an alcove and watched Professors Sprout and McGonagall hurry past on their way to help. It had been a truly glorious night, but dawn was fast approaching. The ideal time, at least in Sirius’s mind, to get some well-earned sleep.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was past noon on Sunday when Sirius opened the curtains surrounding his four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. He was surprised to find James sitting on his own bed, staring out the window. At the sound of Sirius’s curtains, James turned around and regarded him somberly.  
  
  
“Padfoot.”  
  
  
“Prongs.”  
  
  
Sirius looked around and realized that they were alone in their dorm room. He sat and waited while James seemed to struggle with finding the right words.  
  
  
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for acting like a tosser these past few days. I was really, really angry, but...” James seemed to deflate a bit more. “But the more I’ve been thinking on it, maybe you’re right. Maybe Evans and I... Maybe it just isn’t meant to be.”  
  
  
 _Yes, yes, yes!_  
  
  
“No!” Sirius drew the word out with a deep conviction that even surprised himself. Maybe he didn’t like the New James who paid attention in class and respected the teachers and took pity on the First Years. But he liked this sad, dejected James even less. Sirius climbed out of his bed and moved to sit next to his best mate. “You can’t give up yet, Prongsie,” he declared, throwing an arm around James’s shoulders and giving them a small shake. “Think about it. She had five years to learn to hate your guts and only five months to forget all that and learn to like you. Have mercy on her and give her a chance to come round.”  
  
  
Even in his misery, James couldn’t help but smile a little at Sirius’s twisted form of encouragement. “I suppose she is worth another few months of acting like a total wanker.”  
  
  
“That’s the spirit!” Sirius couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Here James sat, on the cusp of ending his mad pursuit of the stuck-up red-headed Prefect, and Sirius had just helped to talk him out of it. Friendship was bizarre sometimes.  
  
  
“I was thinking maybe of giving her this to try to make up for... for whatever it is that I’ve cocked up recently.” James held out an ancient-looking book. Sirius took it and stared blankly at the runes adorning the cover and spine. “I found it in Dad’s study at home. Not sure what it is, but there are lots of pictures of cauldrons and flasks and weird plants, so I think it’s a potions book.”  
  
  
Sirius flipped through the old, brittle sheaves of parchment. Sure enough, there were lots of diagrams showing various fluids and objects being cut, crushed, mixed and stirred. James stood up and stared out the window. “Do you think she’ll like it?”  
  
  
“Yeah, Prongs. The only problem is she’ll probably hole up in the Library for a week trying to translate all of this.” James frowned. He obviously hadn’t considered that possibility. “She’ll be thinking of you the whole time,” Sirius quickly added.  
  
  
“Then I suppose it’s a good idea.” A thoughtful smile settled onto James’s face. He suddenly spun away from the window and started digging through his satchel. “I should write her a letter to go with it. Explain why I’m giving it to her. I really do love her cleverness, you know, Padfoot? A girl like that, one who has the beauty and the brains and the spirit... She really is one of a kind.”  
  
  
James continued to go on about Lily Evans. As the look on his face grew dreamy, Sirius was regretting his decision more and more. “I’m all out of bloody ink,” James mumbled. He hurried across the room and started to rummage through Remus’s trunk. Sirius’s coat was laying across the foot of his bed and he took the opportunity to reach into the pocket and grab Giada’s -- Griselda’s? Goldie’s? -- knickers. He slipped them between two pages of the potions book and snapped it shut. James finally located a bottle of ink under Peter’s bed and then he snatched the book away from Sirius and bounded down the stairs to the common room.  
  
  
Sirius grinned wickedly and started to get dressed. Someday, he was sure that James would win Miss Evans’s heart. James never lost at anything. But if it took a while longer, Sirius couldn’t help but see that as a good thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! There are a number of things I should bring to your attention, all of them musical in nature:
> 
> This story was inspired by the song Living After Midnight by Judas Priest, which first appeared on their 1980 album ‘British Steel’.
> 
> The muggle song that Joy performs to is We Are The Champions by Queen, from their 1977 album ‘News of the World’.
> 
> The scene in the dungeons contains excerpts from the Hogwarts School Song, which appears in chapter 7 of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. You may assume that Travers sang it to the tune of Mozart’s Requiem Mass in D Minor, Third Movement.
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely Dee (HeyMrsPotter) for a quick and effective Brit-picking of this story. And thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you thought of this in the box below!


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